


A Few Shots...

by LonelyLavenderBones



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Ficlet, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22012552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LonelyLavenderBones/pseuds/LonelyLavenderBones
Summary: Pre-TROS, post-TLJ. Rey spends a night trying to forget all about Supreme Leader Kylo Ren by doing a shot or two... or six. The Force bond decides to wreck that plan and drunken awkwardness ensues.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 90
Collections: One-shots and Ficlets





	A Few Shots...

**Author's Note:**

> So, I was going through some old anonymous prompts on my Tumblr and I thought I'd clean this up, make it a little more canon-compliant, and add it to my Ao3. The prompt was: "I might have had a few shots." 
> 
> Nothing crazy. Just drunk!Rey and her gentle, understanding, and tall Supreme Leader in between TLJ and TROS.

“You’re drunk.” Rey could hear a hint of amusement in Ben’s disdainful drawl.

“I-I might have had a few shots,” she hiccupped from her cot on the Resistance base. Lying on her back, she felt as if her cot were swaying as she closed her eyes. “The Resistance… The Resistance kicked some serious… First Order ass today. It’s one for the history books.”

“When?” he asked, swallowing any hint of humor desperately. “What great battle between the First Order and the Resistance could you be thinking of? Every report of you and your friends comes straight to me.”

“I punched one of _your_ stormtroopers in the face,” she boasted as she turned onto her side, watching him through the Force Bond. He was still handsome, she noted. Even as he watched her with a mix of concern and amusement, his lips pinching in that way that drove her crazy. That made her want to grab him by the shoulders and kiss the stubbornness out of his thick, beautifully maned, skull. “FN-2187. It was… It was an accident. My hand slipped after I took my first shot, so I bought him a drink and then he bought me a drink… and Poe bought _everyone_ a drink.”

Raising her hand, she moved it in a limp circle. It really had been accident, hitting Finn. The first drink had hit her so hard that she had dropped the shot glass and frantically tossed her hands up. Her nostrils burned with some fermented Corellian swill as her toes immediately went numb. Her balled fist hit Finn in the cheek, grazing him lightly, but just hard enough that she felt bad enough to buy him another shot.

The shock of the drink lasted only for a moment before a myriad of assorted liquor crossed the bar and made its way to her. She had never been a drinker before, but after finally finding a new place to settle and a moment to breathe, she found that every thought had begun to lead back to _him._

Intel on the First Order? _I wonder what that means for the Supreme Leader._ A new passage decoded in the Jedi texts? _Did Ben ever look over these? What does he know?_ Leia’s face faltering during training, only to be replaced with her coy, general mask? _Was she thinking about him? Did she look at me and see_ him _?_

She needed a break from it all. A night to forget Ben Solo. The Force, it seemed, had other ideas.

“And… and then… and… then…” she swallowed as she sat up. She blinked as she glanced around the room. The tiny room spun with a small sway that made her reach back, resting her hand on the wall to steady herself. She leaned back, the solid wall giving her a bit of relief. “I think… I had a few more drinks, and I got onto the bar… and then Rose and Kaydel dragged me _off_ of the… the bar… and brought me back here.”

“You should drink some water,” Kylo choked. He had his hand over his mouth, but she could see amusement in his eyes. They were enemies, and even in their brief alliance, she had never seen the humor in his honey eyes before. She had seen pain, desperation, and empathy… but never joy.

Briefly, she wondered in the haze of it all, if she would remember the slight softness that he was trying so desperately to hide in the morning. Just as the thought struck her, her eyes flickered to his broad chest and any hope of memorizing that kindness was washed away.

“You should take off that shirt of yours and show me your weirdly high-waisted pants,” she retorted as she attempted to give him bedroom eyes. Instead, she blinked one eye and then the other in the most awkward display of seduction that would ever be seen in the Resistance base. She leaned forward, briefly losing her balance as she limply wagged a finger in a come-hither motion.

“I-I’m not going to do that.” His pale features began mottled with a blush that not even his hand could hide.

“Please?” she whined in a honeyed slur. “You can get rid of the pants, too, oh, Supreme Lord Kyle Ron.”

“Supreme Leader Kylo Ren,” he corrected, his tone too gentle as if to answer why he couldn’t play her little game. It cut through buzz of her drink, bringing back the pain she had been desperately trying to dull.

“Tonight was supposed… It was supposed to be fun,” she started to tear up, still so terribly drunk but no longer with the fun buzz she had been clinging to. She collapsed into her bed, her face pressed against her flat pillow as she hid her face. “A-And… and you had to burst through the Force Bond… and… and ruin it… I wasn’t… I didn’t want to think about you.”

It spilled out from her lips quickly, the confession that she would forget by the time she woke up in the morning. He must have realized that too because she felt him approach, the air buzzing around.

As she laid there, she felt the dull rubbing of a hand tentatively on her back. She wanted to slap his hand away, to slam the door of the _Falcon_ in his face again.

“I hate you,” she mumbled.

“You don’t.”

“No, but I wish I did.” 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, you might be into my American gothic vampire fic, [A Devil's Hunger](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20242843), still in progress.
> 
> If you like the strange and macabre, I also have a Victorian Frankenstein AU, [The Shores of Lethe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20830172), in progress.
> 
> I'm active on Twitter @womp_rat_fever and I do answer asks over on Tumblr @womp-rat-fever.


End file.
